My Sister

Author's note: This is a remembrance of my first encounter with my sister. For those who get repulsed by the idea, please don't read it. I do not want any of your rantings. For those who believe that love happens wherever you may find it, please read and let me know your thoughts. My sister was tragically killed in a car accident last year; there is not a day that goes by that I don't miss her.

* * * * *

I guess we all have different heroes when we are growing up. My biggest hero was my older sister. She had been a fairly normal high school girl until shortly after graduation. That's when our family's whole world changed. That's when my sister was almost murdered. She'd been at a club with some friends, dancing and celebrating graduation. They were all looking forward to the start of college in the fall. As a part of that celebratory atmosphere, they were not as discrete as they normally were. They were openly kissing each other. Girls kissing one another in public was not a common sight in this sleepy Southern town, so it attracted attention – the wrong kind of attention.

When my sister went to leave the club, she was taken from the parking lot by a twisted pervert. The litany of things he did to her is mind boggling, ranging from rape to mutilation. He broke most of her fingers and her arms and legs, smashed ribs, broke her jaw. He cut her with a large kitchen knife in various places. There was object rape and other abuses. My sister was no wimp; she had fought back and her screams had apparently aroused the attention of some neighbor who phoned the police. As the police broke down the door to his apartment, the rapist took his knife and slashed it across my sister's throat. One police officer shot him dead and the second began immediate first aid, desperately fighting to keep my sister alive.

What followed that nightmare was over 16 operations to put her back together again. They called in specialists from all over, including a very accomplished plastic surgeon. When they finished, she was beautiful once again – perhaps even better than before. Oh, there were some things that could not be fixed. She lost her uterus due to the object rape with the butcher knife. The final knife slash had destroyed her vocal chords, making her mute. She damn near lost her mind. Two years of intense therapy – and the gentle love of a photographer named Bekka – restored my sister to life.

Bekka and my sister lived in a nice farmhouse outside of town surrounded by woods and fields. I loved staying there whenever I could. As I became more aware of my own body and the strange sensations, I also became very curious about the life style my sister was leading and the strange sounds I would occasionally hear from their room. My curiosity got the better of my sense one night and I tiptoed down the hall to the bathroom next to the master bedroom.

This bathroom had a door from the hallway and a door that connected to the master bedroom. I quietly slipped in to the bathroom without turning on the light. The connecting door to the bedroom was ajar, and the full moon outside provided enough light to illuminate the scene in front of me. Both my sister and Bekka were naked, their bodies entwined on the bed, kissing and caressing one another. I had never seen anything like this before. When they shifted around and began kissing each other's genitals, I was astonished. Bekka threw her head back and began to moan as my sister licked and touched her. Her guttural cries grew louder and then stopped as her whole body seemed to spasm before my eyes. Without conscious thought, my hand slipped inside my cotton panties and I began to touch myself in emulation of what I had been seeing. I was completely unprepared for the sensations as my fingers brushed the nub at the top of my slit. I was overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure and I fell back against the hallway bathroom door, making it thump closed.

Bekka jumped from the bed and rushed to the door, catching me leaning against the now closed door with my hand still inside my panties. She yelled at me for spying on them and I fled crying to my room, ashamed and mortified at being caught. Whatever would my sister think of me? As I lay sobbing into my pillow, my sister came into the room. She sat upon my bed, pulled me into her arms and just held me until I stopped crying. Her reassuring pats on my back and the obvious love in her arms calmed me more than any words could have. When I tried to apologize, she merely placed her finger against my lips to stop me, shook her head as if to say it wasn't necessary, and smiled at me.

Bekka's reaction was not as understanding or forgiving and her anger eventually broke up the relationship. Bekka moved to Colorado with another girl and Ali was alone in the farmhouse. She would occasionally stay at our parent's house, but that was always strained. My Dad did not accept Ali's life choice for a long time, so there was a wall of silent rejection between them. It was after one of her visits that I found the video tape of her ("The Tape"). It made me recall even clearer the images from that night at her house and my first orgasm.

I continued to visit my sister on alternate weekends. Shortly after my sixteenth birthday, she invited me to stay out at the farm for a month. My parents did not object so I moved in at Ali's place. I should comment that this is an old farmhouse, built around the turn of the century (the last one), and while it had most modern amenities, one thing it lacked was an effective air conditioning system. If you've never been in South Carolina in the summer, let me tell you it can get hot! Even the nights are in the 80's and 90's. Ceiling fans are great for stirring up the air, but it is still very uncomfortable. The answer, of course, is to wear fewer clothes. I was a big fan of running shorts and oversized Tees. I rarely wore a bra – not much to support anyway. Ali also ran about in running shorts and a Tee during the day. After her evening shower, she usually just opted for panties and a clean Tee and that soon became my common evening attire as well.

One evening we were sitting in the upstairs study watching Showtime After Dark – you know the shows I mean, the soft porn they run late on Saturday nights like Red Shoe Diaries or Tales of Women. The episode was about a woman exploring her lesbian tendencies with a mysterious woman in a chance encounter. While the plot line was seriously flawed, the photography was excellent – very tasteful and yet still erotic. Much of the "action" was implied, such as the woman's head moving down out of camera while our heroine writhes in ecstasy from her implied oral stimulation. It reminded me of that night I had watched Ali and Bekka. Since we had never really talked about it, I was hesitant to bring it up now, but I did anyway. I told Ali how the scene reminded me of that night and how watching them had led me to my first self-induced orgasm. Went on to say how mortified I had been when Bekka had caught me and how grateful I was for her understanding and compassion that night.

Using ASL (American Sign Language), Ali told me that I had nothing to be ashamed about. At that age, sexual curiosity was commonplace and that she had actually known I was there. She'd decided to satisfy that curiosity rather than be all stuffy about it. Bekka's anger had been at Ali because she had known I was there and had not told Bekka. She leaned over and hugged me after we spoke about it, as if signifying the conclusion of the topic. We watched the TV in silence, each lost in our thoughts, as the two women on the screen kissed and fondled each other. Ali asked me what I thought of the show and I told her it seemed kind of lame after seeing the real thing, both live and on video. I knew as soon as I said the words that I should not have said them. Ali turned and asked "what video?" with her hands? Now I admitted to having watched the video with her in the submissive role. Ali turned beet red, clearly embarrassed by what I had seen. She signed that she was ashamed that I had seen that; she thought it had been destroyed. She explained that she had been smoking a lot of grass with Bekka one night when Bekka made her dress up like that and then had done all those things to her. It had been just before Bekka had left – a vindictive act of humiliation to make Ali feel bad about herself.

As Ali cried, I moved over closer to her and put my arms around her. I pulled her head onto my shoulder and held her. As she cried, I was never more aware of her body and how it was in contact with my own. I told her what I had done as I had watched the film, especially when she was on the screen. I told her how hot it had made me to see her as a sexual being rather than just as my big sister. Ali pulled her head back to look at my face and I leaned forward and kissed her. It was not a quick kiss, nor was it a light kiss. It was a kiss of desire, I admit it. I could feel her breath catch as a spark shot through us both and I kissed her harder, my arms tightening about her and my tongue brushing against her closed lips. She moved her hands between us as if to push me back but instead they closed upon my breasts. We both groaned in response. I moaned from the increased sexual tension her touch had created. Hers was a moan of surrender to the inevitability of the moment.

Her kiss changed. She parted her lips, sucking my tongue into her mouth, while hr hands kneaded and squeezed my breasts, pinching the rock hard nipples. Her hands moved under the Tee, sliding over my bare flesh, seizing my small breasts, pulling and pinching the nipples. She took over control of the encounter at that point. Her lips moved along my neck and down over my collarbone, pushing the Tee aside util she took my nipple into her mouth. Liquid fire raced through my veins at that moment, pooling in my groin. Every nerve ending felt ultra-sensitive; my whole body enervated a thousand-fold. My fingers clutched her hair, pulling her into tighter contact with my chest. Her teeth lightly scraped my tiny hard nipple, sending sparks through me. I tried to reach her breast but she caught my hand and held it behind me, making me helpless in her grasp.

Ali suddenly sat up and pulled my Tee off of me, baring me to her eyes. She'd seen me naked before but it was not the same as now…now her eyes blazed with lust and desire as she looked at me. Holding both my wrists behind me with one hand, she lowered her head once again to my breasts, suckling my nipples and biting my skin with small nips. Her free hand slowly traveled down my stomach, brushed into my navel, and then over my panties. Her fingers moved over the thin cotton to the damp juncture between my thighs. I opened my legs at her approach; I yearned for her touch. I was not prepared for the actuality; her touch was so much different than my own…more electrifying, more exhilarating. I threw my head back in bliss as she traced the center of my being though the thin cotton briefs. Her fingers hooked the leg opening and suddenly there was no longer any barrier. Her fingers were actually caressing my most intimate flesh. Moving them gently upwards, she soon found and began to rub my clitoris, making it stand even harder than before. I could not hold still, my hips twitched as the sensations mounted within me.

Ali moved off the couch, kneeling between my open legs. She kissed me deeply as her fingers continued to caress my clit and rub my inner lips. Then she bent her head down, down, down, until her lips closed over my clitoris. The sensation of her lips and tongue were so intense that I screamed aloud, calling her name. Her hands clutched my buttocks as she sucked, licked and nibbled my pussy. My hands, freed of her confining grasp, held her head tighter to me, trying to make the contact ever more intense. I could feel it all building inside me, an overwhelming flood of sensation greater than anything I'd ever known. Ali seemed to sense when I reached the edge; she paused, then clamped her lips tightly about my clit, sucking it hard with pressing it with her teeth in a sharp vise. She slowly pushed one finger into my tight opening, crashing me over the barrier and releasing the pent up explosion. Ali continued to lick me, bringing me through the peak and into a peaceful place behind it.

She moved up beside me on the couch, holding me in her arms. I could taste my juices on her lips when we kissed and it excited me even more. I had to try to make her feel good, too. I pushed myself up from along her side and said "Let me try to please you." I pulled her shirt off and then removed her thong, baring her to my eyes fully. She was so beautiful, the scars from her surgeries faded and cunningly hid. I reached out a tentative hand and explored her upper body.

Her breasts, fuller than mine, were firm and resilient. Her nipples, swollen with her own passions, were like berries, red and ripe. I traced a fingertip over one, feeling it resist pressure and even swell under my touch. I bent my head and took one in my mouth. Her hand moved along my spine, all the encouragement I needed. I began to lightly suckle and gently bite her nipple as she had done to mine while simultaneously squeezing the other. I switched between her firm orbs, marveling in their feel and taste. I sat myself upright again, this time studying her lower body as avidly as any man would. She had shaved her nether lips, leaving only a sparse tuft above the slit, a tuft so blonde as to be almost white. Her outer lips were swollen with her desire, opening to reveal the pale pink interior lips and slippery surfaces.

Her clit was red and distended, peeking from under its hood as if begging for attention. I brought my fingertip down even with the vaginal opening and then lightly traced upward along the lips until I brushed that hard nub. Her hips spasmed in response to that brief touch. I spread the outer lips more fully using both hands as I knelt between her knees. I bent my head and lightly ran my tongue slowly up from the center to her clit. Over and over again I traced that path, faster and faster, till I felt her hand on my head guiding my mouth to her clit. As I closed my lips over the hard nub, I slipped a finger inside her and then a second one.

As I pumped those fingers inside her, I continued to suck and nibble and lick her hard clit. Ali's hips began to churn and her head tossed from side to side. She began to squeeze and pull at her nipples as I continued. I slipped a third finger inside her, filling her. My own excitement was building again, I could feel my juices leaking down my inner thigh as I clamped down on her clit and pushed my fingers deep inside her at the same time.

Her hips lifted completely off the couch as she climaxed, her juices splashing my face and chest, surprising me. I never knew a woman could spray as she came. I slowly and gently licked her clean and then moved up to kiss her smiling face. We cuddled for a while and then went, hand in hand, into her bedroom, where we slept the night in each other's arms.

----

End of part one. Whether there will be a part two depends on the feedback. I answer all feedback except from anonymous cowards who trash and run.